


enemy lines

by MasonCU



Category: Minecraft: Story Mode - Fandom
Genre: AU, Confessions, Cuddles, F/M, Hugs, Mental Health Issues, Mental Illness, One Shot Collection, Redemption, Self Harm, Slow Burn, inexperienced at romance literature 101 lets go boys, self-care
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2019-11-16 02:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18085301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasonCU/pseuds/MasonCU
Summary: Aidesse is one of those rarepairs that is growing, but is going so slowly, somebody needs to kick it in the groin and get it running. This is that kick in the groin.Featuring our (my) favorite couple doing everything from the most mundane (confessing their love) to the most-unbelievable-things-that-would-freeze-hell (making themselves breakfast).





	1. Said (Psych Ward AU)

To say that Jesse was small would be an overstatement. She’s only barely a head shorter than him, her eyes reaching his nose, at best. They sit next to each other, often, so the height isn’t noticeable when they’re standing.

Or hugging.

He accepted her offer of arms spread wide, and she dove right in for it, burying her face and wrapping her arms around him; an easy task, when he was so skinny. Her hands clutched each other behind his back, locking them in place.

Aiden is skinny, to almost an unhealthy degree, so it always felt off when people could wrap their arms around him entirely in an embrace; he never could do the same to them. The situation hadn’t changed now, especially when Jesse was mildly chubbier than he was; but there was an odd, satisfying feeling of not giving a damn about that part, not anymore. All he can care to feel is her, and now only seeing the tiled floor and her brown hair, he thinks of nothing else. She moves her head so that her ear is pressed against his chest; his heartbeat, quicker than he’d like it to be, in full volume to her. The boy finally relaxes his arms when she squeezes and hums. His hands move to firmly hold her back and run through her hair gently.

“Don’t-” she tries to start. He understands how this all worked, he’s lived it; he’ll have something to say, but then it’ll be too difficult to actually get it out. What made it so unfortunate was that what he wanted to say always had to be said.

“Don’t take this the wrong- the typical way,” she stammers over long stretches of overthinking and working through anxiety and insecurity, “You’re really cool, and I l- I like hanging out with you.”

His heart beat faster and he knew she could hear it. Part of him wanted her to think it was just nervous habit and fear of something horrible; the last thing he wanted was for him to misconstrue what she was implying and building up to, then he’ll be even more embarrassed than he ever has in his entire life.

Then she says it.

“I love you.”

It’s quick and relieving and complex, and she’s breathing heavily; out of anxiety or to retrieve breath, he doesn’t know. His nose goes to the top of her head, lips just at her forehead. Closing his eyes and stroking her hair, he gives a light kiss; inwardly, he yells at himself for potentially overstepping boundaries.

“I love you, too.”

His eyes widen momentarily and he holds his breath. Is he wrong? Is he being manipulative? Is he returning to his old habits? He didn’t know what was going on. Jesse was his best friend and he’s mad that he might have fallen for somebody, that he actually let himself feel this again, that now his life has gotten even more complicated than when he was initially evaluating his feelings for her.

The only sound now is the shuffling of cloth and their breathing. Jesse makes no move to let go, instead tightening her grip as best as she can without tiring and repeating the words in a murmur.

(I love you. I love you. I love you.)

It didn’t have to be romantic, for now. What mattered was that they were the best companions they had in this place. The hospital could be better, but it competed against their own selves in terms of the “loneliest places in existence.”

But she was here, kind without being archetypal, always meaning well and wanting nothing more than to chill and hang out, with her crayons and her songs and her chips and chocolates. He kept fond memories of her smile and laughter and antics and shenanigans. Jokes, humor, aspirations, hobbies.

Jesse was talented and deserved better than to be stuck here.

(“Here” being the hospital, her family, her illness.)

That’s what one would call “caring.” That’s what happened when somebody matters to you.

“I love you,” she says.

His lips form a smile.

“I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is going to be the wildest ride ever yall are gonna regret this


	2. safety net

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eye descriptions are metaphorical i hope you know that

“Aiden, it’s okay.”

She rocked him side to side, rubbing circles on his back, softly reassuring him and burying her face into his neck to share warmth. All the while, he couldn’t stop himself from sobbing.

Aiden felt so _pathetic_.

“You’re valid, it’s okay, I forgive you.”

He _was_ so pathetic.

“I love you. I love you.”

Soon, her repeated murmurs reduced themselves to mumbled syllables, and all the while she gave him her all, kissing him on the cheek or forehead every once in a while and squeezing in their embrace. He’s sure her shirt was completely stained at this point, with tears and the most transparent of mucus, traces of them all but a darker shade of her shirt’s blue.

It always came back, and he hated it. He’d just enjoyed a good dinner, celebrated Jesse slowly mastering cooking for the sake of pleasure, and then the train of thought derailed, something at the back of his mind snuck in, and he froze completely. He knows Jesse loves him and isn’t sick of him because she’d made it clear before, and they know that what applies to him applies to her, because he knows 100% that if she were in the same situation, he would be there in a heartbeat. But none of that changed his current feelings of stupidity and self-hatred and anxiety and dread.

(But her arms were strong and firm, training having done her body well and familiarity bringing comfort with her presence alone. She’d wrapped them around his skinnier frame, shorter as she was, and reassured him as best as she could and knew how that it was okay, that his fears were valid, that she would be there for him every step of the way. She’ll support him no matter what and make sure that when he tumbles, he doesn’t stay too long on the ground. She knows her own boundaries and his and knows when to make it clear that something is wrong, _everything is okay_.

Yet he couldn’t help but sob.)

The circles rubbed on his back became her hand on his chest, brushing the fabric of his shirt lightly, both of them emotionally exhausted and breathing slowed. He’d returned it unconsciously when he brought a hand to her hair, combing briefly before moving to her face, and their eyes locked as he stroked her cheek gently. Jesse’s beautiful, brown eyes have darkened, worn from centuries’ worth of work and suffering. His, no doubt, had shaded considerably, the pale greying with self-inflicted hurt.

Jesse’s lids begin to droop as she lowers slowly onto him, losing herself in him, exhaling a small breath. With her ear to his chest, she hummed, and moved herself up to be level with his face; his eyes were closing when she was directly on top of him, their faces inches apart. Then their lips pressed together softly, gently, and when he pulled her closer, he could taste her again, everything about Jesse right there with him, despite the lingering taste of dinner; he relished it all.

(It hadn’t been long since they last kissed, and he already missed it so much.

God, he was so _tired_.)

There was little space between their lips when they pulled away. She gave him one last kiss before putting her head down next to his, relenting to her exhaustion and closing her eyes as she buried her head between his and the couch’s back cushion; he could feel her breath on his neck. Aiden closed his eyes completely and turned slightly, his nose on the top of Jesse’s head. Wrapping his arms around her, and she, him, Aiden let his thoughts go, get lost and float in the emptiness of nothing.

It wasn’t worth his health, worrying about it now.

Jesse was here, with him. Their lives were normal, had been for a long time now. There was no loneliness when they were long-distance, no anxiety about letters or the next meet-up, no risking bailing out on dates. They were finally together, they’d figured everything out.

The light at the end of the tunnel was _always_ there. Hope existed.

Hope existed.

Aiden and Jesse fell peacefully asleep.


	3. block

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me? know how to write romance? *good at writing?* no that's wild.

“Babe?”

Aiden thanked god for the distraction from the papers in front of him, scrambling to turn to Jesse, dressed in a nightgown with her hair damp. She stood in front of the door, her hand lingering on the knob, finger twitching with anxiety. “Hey, Jess.”

A series of scuffles as her sandals were dragged against the floor, Jesse yawning and rubbing her eyes as she made her way to him. She leant over him, an arm behind his back and the other hand on the table. Aiden took her face in his hand, looking up at her blearily, caressing her cheek as she surveyed the papers. “They’re beautiful.”

“I could say the same about you.”

The edges of her lip tugged to a smile, and she softly smacked him across the face; his grin was smeared to a small laugh. “Your drawings, I mean,” she took a chair and sat next to him, “I love them.”

He frowned, slightly, mumbling a “Thanks.” Jesse put her hand on his shoulder, rubbing her thumb on it gently as she sifted through the parchment; he’d doodled on one, everything else was blank. “But they’re not words,” Aiden continued, disappointed. Jesse glanced at him with a sympathetic look, “Writer’s block?”

A grumble in confirmation.

The woman huffed, staring blankly, now; the doodled page was in her limp hand. She looked back down at it, at the flowers and the sea and the ribbons he scrawled over jumbled words and messy handwriting. At the bottom of it all were two stick figures, faint silhouettes of two people; one had spiky hair, the other, long and flowing. The pair held each other’s hands, shadows long against the moonlight.

“Well,” Jesse adjusted herself, pulling her partner closer and leaning into him; he didn’t object, “Something’s better than nothing, right?” She rubbed his shoulder, pursing her lips as she looked into his hazed eyes. With a tilted head, she continued, "And we all have our off days.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, letting his head fall gently on hers, hand limp between their legs, “I know. It just sucks.”

She returned the paper and took his hand, tangling his fingers with hers, “I know.”

The fireplace burning fills the silence, Jesse and Aiden sitting with little thought, quiet and still, soaking up the company of each other.

“Come on,” Jesse murmurs, putting her arm down and holding his hand with a squeeze. Reluctantly, he followed as she stood and moved the chairs away, “It’s late.”

“I still-”

The words are caught in his throat as the fog takes over, and she holds him firmly; looking back at him with a tired, knowing look, sympathetic all the while. “I know.” She goes up to him and kisses him softly on the lips, a hand to his chest. It moves up to brush his hair, still wild and pointing everywhere, less damp than before. “You’ll think of something, babe.”

Just by the look on her eyes, at the thought of letting himself relax in the comfort of blankets with Jesse by his side in this chilly night, he relented. They put the fire out and she led him by the hand, to their - technically his - bedroom. The curtains were already drawn to the side, the cold air seeping through the screens.

Without another word, they crawled under and held each other beneath the blankets, letting sleep take over slowly as the last moments of the day were spent in company.


	4. scars of the aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: self harm
> 
> also merienda is a meal or snack in between lunch and dinner. fyi. little bit of trivia.
> 
> carry on, tread safely.

Her first greeting to him was a desperate hug.

It had been weeks since the Admin had died, weeks since Jesse came to his house after so long without word and clung to him the rest of the night, finally breaking from all the tragedy and pressure and fear and anger she’d just come back from. There were no smiles or laughter, nothing as genuine as when she’s okay. No, there was just difficulty breathing, crying, screaming, and ranting.

They’d kissed passionately after she had a good, long, look at his face; after it finally hit her that the admin was gone, that he wasn’t here to hurt her or anybody else anymore. That he never came for Aiden, didn’t even remember that he existed, didn’t do anything when he received his letter, didn’t hurt him at all. When it finally hit her that she wasn’t imagining things, that she did take down the admin - that she and her friends were alive and well and back home - when it finally hit her, she broke and collapsed and he was all the company she wanted in the moment. Jesse let herself stay with Aiden, that night; let herself think about nothing, just him and her, just his presence, just them.

She’d missed everything so much; it was as if the Witherstorm came back, revived Reuben, and killed him in front of her, all over again. And it was all her fault.

(There was no meat in their extremely late dinner that night.)

Aiden had been worried sick ever since that last time, waiting anxiously for the date when he could go to stay over at Beacontown and meet with her again. He knew Jesse wasn’t getting over this easily and he knew one mere week wasn’t going to do shit- especially when days, when Jesse was in a rough spot mentally and emotionally, felt like centuries. When she had to help rebuild town and deal with the Civil Union and couldn’t even catch herself a breath long enough to fully soak up everything that happened.

(Days in adventures blurred, time was nonexistent. It was just mission after mission, event after event, reach the goal as fast as you can, fulfill as much as you can. Get things over with, catch up with the current date, repeat.

It’s why she slowly retired in the first place.)

Then today.

Then today, he came through the portal and she was sobbing even before he arrived. She hugged him tight, nearly tackled him through the portal, and cried. Then today, it was a full two months after everything. Petra made her decision and left town, off to find herself again; Axel and Olivia returned to their respective homes; Ivor left as well; and work was back in full swing. Supervising reconstruction and renovation, paperwork, unnecessary anxiety over a threat from an extremely old enemy; over her half-reluctant indifference to it, over her want to just sleep.

1440+ hours did nothing good for her. It was almost as bad as the Admin.

(The hangover was never any better.)

He started gently, “Hey, Jess,” and his concern skyrocketed further when she tightened her grip and choked and coughed and couldn’t say anything; just let out sobs and gasps and her unsteady breath. “Shh,” he’d said in her ear, holding her just as tightly and letting himself embrace her as much as he could, cover her from everything that bothered her, “It’s okay, I’m here. I love you.”

He kept repeating comfort and rubbing her back until she calmed down, till she’d soaked up all that she could and her breathing steadied sufficiently. He asked her what happened, but all she said was, “Everything.”

Jesse held her composure the entire day, wearing obviously tired smiles when she had to face somebody, weary and exhausted as the afternoon went by. He passed on a late lunch and she admitted she wasn’t hungry either, the snack she had for merienda apparently having been good enough. Dinner was a quiet affair and simple enough, with him preparing it himself; Jesse resorted to multitasking eating with work and him helping out with the papers. (“I missed having you here,” she said.) All the while, he worried what she might tell him later in the night, undoubtedly what she would have been holding on to the entire day.

Then night came.

She wanted to bathe after him.

She hadn’t removed her bra until she’d taken a bath.

“Aiden,” she started, her voice already trembling and eyes watering. He’d looked up from his book and immediately kept it, knowing she had something to say, “Can we-” she stuttered, hugging herself anxiously and pushing herself off of the bathroom’s doorway, “Can we talk- about something serious?”

Slowly, she walked toward the bed, falling to it and her breath hitching immediately as her sobs increased. He moved closer to her in concern, moving a hand between them, reaching out for her and letting her know he was here. She screwed her eyes shut and tried to breathe deeply, heaving near-uncontrollably. Tears rained harder and he immediately pulled her into a light embrace, which she returned without hesitation, gripping him as tight as she could and him stroking her hair, combing it through his fingers and brushing her scalp. Aiden murmured nothings to her ear, telling her, “It’s okay, it’s okay, I love you,” and “I’m here.”

He’d remembered, in the middle of it, that this was just like what happened when he had to show his then-boyfriend his scars, explain what was on his neck and why he always covered up his arms. That, then, was in the moment and involuntary.

Aiden told Jesse, “I won’t judge you,” and it triggered a chain that finally lead to her arms loosening and dropping and them finally pulling apart. Jesse tried to keep her breathing steady; all the while, she fiddled with the bottom of her shirt.

“Aid- Aide,” she choked, “I-”

She sniffed and wiped at her eyes, mumbled “I’ll just get straight to the point,” he couldn’t catch it.

Then his world crumbled to pieces.

“I cut again.”

And she sobbed harder.

He already knew they both had history of self-harm, tried working so hard to start over and stay clean, knew just how hard it was to avoid it, to stop, to keep from reopening the wounds; how much easier it got with every wound, every scratch, every burn, every cut. Until you couldn’t even register the pain on that spot.

Ever so hesitantly, she tugged at her shirt, and took it off slowly; revealing her stomach, her breasts, then it was off completely. Aiden’s heart was caught in his throat, and he choked on a sob.

Lines on every conceivable spot, faint red and flesh mixed together with the scratches, which trembled with every shaky breath. Some were scabbed, others were open, trails of brown and pink covering her breasts. Her fists balled tight on whatever she could grasp and she sobbed, desperate not to cover them up, to scratch, to cover her face and bury herself six feet under. “It hurts so much- Aiden.”

They were only so far apart, now, and his hands were so close to touching the open wounds, hovering above her collar, “Did they hurt earlier too?” And her response was incomprehensible.

“Nightmares,” Jesse then cried, “the admin, I- I was s-so scared, that he- everything-”

And nothing else came out but choked tears.

“If I press on them, do they hurt?” He touched lightly, and she shrugged, only a small wince came out of her. Aiden tried to compose himself and keep it that way for as long as he could, assessing the wound first before he rushed in. “Did it hurt when you took a bath?”

“Wh-when I scrubbed and soaped and with my bra-”

They both were sobbing.

He pressed against his eyes to rid the tears, trying to keep himself together to help his girlfriend, his best friend, tried to help and not make her-

“I’m sorry, Aiden,” she was wracked with sobs and he could barely make out the words, but if he hadn’t bolted to comfort her then, he did now, “I’m sorry.”

“Jess, no-” and he dove right in, holding her close to him and trying as much as he could to not worsen the scars, “Jesse, you don’t have to apologize,” even with his voice trembling and him sobbing, “It’s okay.”

One would hear nothing but the couple crying into each other’s shoulders, pouring everything without another word, the despair drowning them in all of the weight and pain. They’d lost every semblance of innocence, suffering through repeated emotional and mental deaths and hurting everybody, including themselves. Aiden kissed her softly, gentle reminders that she was safe, comfort for everything up to this point.

All they could do at the moment was breathe.

 


	5. together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based on the song World's End Umbrella by Hachi

Jesse’s resilience never slipped by Aiden.

It bewildered him, always. He found it admirable, irritating, sometimes; but it was something he never failed to respect.

That part of her never left her, even at her lowest of lows. It was always there, at the back, waiting to come back in full force.

And here he was, witnessing it at its full extent.

He watched her fondly as she laughed and ran in circles and jumped around, her arms spread wide while she enjoyed the garden. The heaven that they reached, the highest floor, the end of it all. The flowers were in full bloom, the breeze gentle, the sun’s warm rays decorating the scattered clouds in the warm dark as it sank further into the horizon.

It was beautiful, if it weren’t for the poison air.

His chest was tight, head fuzzy, and he was weak and only grew worse with every step he took, every action he made. With every flower he picked and gathered in his hand, he resisted the urge to collapse and give in.

He didn’t have Jesse’s resilience, wasn’t as stubborn as her; but he had to hold out a little longer.

Jesse ambled towards him, her laughter and voice light as it always was, even if it was now constrained by pain. The bouquet in his hands was a mix of yellows and reds and blues and everything in between, and he had no idea what they were specifically, but he raised them from his side and handed it to her when she got close enough. Her eyes softened. She giggled.

“Aiden,” she gasped. They’d settled themselves against an abandoned hunk of metal, whatever it used to be - a missile or a tube - now covered in specks of flowers and grass. He pulled her closer to his side, their heads leaning against each other. Small smiles were all they could muster.

“It’s beautiful,” came out as a wisp of a mumble.

Aiden couldn’t move anymore without straining himself, and with the last of his strength, his fingers intertwined with hers, his other hand squeezing her shoulder.

She glanced up at him, and though he couldn’t see, he felt it. The man found it difficult to resist the familiar growing darkness of regret and fear budding inside him once more, the finality tearing at him.

“I love you, Aiden.” Jesse reminded him.

Aiden closed his eyes, and let out a heavy sigh. “I love you, too, Jesse.”

They slept side-by-side as the moon rose into the blue abyss.


	6. finally

It’s now or never.

She’s right there. They’re alone - _what if she has other things on her mind?_ \- it’s the perfect opportunity. You’re just giving her information - _what if she hates me after this?_ \- it’ll be perfectly fine.

Aiden doesn’t notice her giving him a curious look, only does when he glances at her to check and immediately squirms in embarrassment. He already hated himself- _you always hate yourself, dummy._

“You okay?” Jesse asks with genuine concern. Her head’s tilted as if to check on him, who’s ducked his face into his notes, splotches of ink landing everywhere when he fidgets with the quill.

“I-” his breath trembles, and he’s being so obvious, and he almost doesn’t wish Jesse wasn’t oblivious; or perhaps he wished she was. He had no idea what's what anymore. “C-Can we- uh. Have that-” he stopped himself; the stammering was too much. “Can we have th-that serious conversation? That I mentioned before?”

Jesse blinked, but she swiftly nodded and closed her book, “Yeah, sure,” and leaned back, crossed her arms, and stared at him waiting, expectantly.

(The anxiety building up inside her was obvious in her eyes, and he was torn between wanting to mend that and some other thing that has escaped him. He couldn’t even _think_ at the moment.)

“I-” He didn’t plan this out. This whole thing was going to crumble one way or another and Aiden was the disaster’s bullseye. The more he stammers, the more he digs himself into a hole he can’t get out of.

“I- shit, fuck- uh,” his hands reach to scratch at his arm, as a nervous habit, but Jesse quickly stops him, holds his hand gently and keeps it away. “Hey, no. Aiden, what’s wrong?”

God, she’s so beautiful, even now. Nothing at all has changed, nothing is different. She’s here, treating him as she always does, and he’s getting flustered over every tiny movement and is over-obsessed with her; he’s wrong, he’s completely wrong. He shouldn’t be here.

Frantically, Aiden shook his head, made to pack his things and act on the immediate impulse overtaking his initiative. All he wants to do is retreat into a crevice and rot and never come out.

“I- I’m sorry,” he choked out. Internally, he slapped himself; was he tearing up? “I sh- sorry-”

He didn’t even get to stand when Jesse - who was stronger than him, faster than him, more stubborn and headstrong and determined than he ever was, even with her own misgivings - gripped his wrist with a gentle “Hey,” and her eyes were soft and features glowing. Aiden would have been breathless marvelling if he weren’t hating himself for so much as liking her.

“Aiden, this-” she was shaking, too. She was nervous. Jesse was nervous. Aiden didn’t know if he felt better or worse at this. “This is clearly important to you, s-so just- *say it*.”

He stopped moving, he stilled. He wasn’t truly intending on going, even with how much his gut was screaming at him to retreat and run away.

“I’m your friend,” Jesse said. She shrugged, smiled for all of a second. Then her mouth formed into a thin line, biting her lip nervously and fingers twitching. Half of it was concern for her friend; the other was anxiety at what he might say.

“I- I..” Aiden wanted to push it out already, but it was like releasing something that might be a bomb, or might be completely harmless. He didn’t know; he wanted to, but he couldn’t. He was too scared to do anything.

He hadn’t realized that the slight twinge of comfort that was the fear’s only combatant was Jesse squeezing his hand, and the small smile on her face, and the way her deep, dark, brown eyes looked when the things she loved were on her mind- and they were looking at him, he just realized. Was he to her what she was to him?

“I love you!” He finally said.

It was louder than he intended, and he was lucky to say it before anybody got back. In fact, now that he said it, anybody coming back would have killed him, because now he’s lost control, and the dam was split open.

“I just- I just really like hanging out with you and everything’s better when you’re here, and I really care about you and I want you to thrive and I’m so proud of you and I’m so sorry for everything that I’ve done to you, you deserve better than me,” _Aiden-_ “a- and goddammit you’re always so pretty and I can’t really tell the difference between when you’re wearing makeup or not because it actually terrifies me-” _Aiden!_ “-and fuck I just really really want to spend time with you dammit, you’re so endearing when you gush over audio plays and games and-” “Aiden!”

She was laughing fondly. It wasn’t malicious or anything, she was laughing with the lightest smile on her face and her eyes gleamed bright and soft; and seeing her like this both made him even more worried for the reaction, but his heart swelled at her being like this. “Aiden, I-”

Jesse laughed, shook her head, and tried to steady her own breaths that trembled with, or against, the tears that budded at the edges of her eyes. “Oh my god-” Aiden nearly keened, rushing to check her face, “Are you okay? Shit!”

Her smile never faded. “Aiden, I’m fine.”

Only now, he realized he was crying too. Jesse let out a chuckle. “Aiden,” she cupped his cheek in her hand, rubbed a thumb over the few tears that streaked his skin, “I love you too.”

Like a gust of wind was finally released from a cage, a door billowing open and the breeze rushing through. A relief, excitement tracing it.

Before he knew it - before the confession and the smiles and laughter and tears - they wrapped themselves in each other, burrowed into the soft comfort of their clothes and held the other in the most firm embrace they could muster. Not like the world was ending, not as if they were a lifeline soon to be lost; but it was like they were apart for too long, and wanted to relish in the shared company for as long as it was possible.

Aiden’s smile was watery, a gasp of brief laughter escaping him as he stroked her locks, absorbed the feeling and held it close, treasured and handled it like it was the most precious thing to ever exist. A memory he didn’t want to forget, a moment he didn’t want to lose.

On his shoulder, into his neck, he could feel Jesse smile too, against the tears that came with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you think i need to polish up on the ability to add more to what happened beyond the immediate end...you are absolutely right


End file.
